


In Which Dave Has A Feeling

by morningCrescent



Series: Bros With Benefits [9]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningCrescent/pseuds/morningCrescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave has been thinking about Bro. Karkat is there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Dave Has A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> warning for mentions of past abuse, possible PTSD and dissociation.

His hand fits in yours perfectly, fingers slotting between your own. The two of you are lying side-by-side in your bed, again—in fact, he spends more time in your room nowadays than his own. It certainly doesn’t hurt that you recently alchemized a bigger mattress, just for lazy days like this one. You lean over and plant a kiss on his forehead, trying to drown out the thoughts buzzing in your head. 

The truth is, you’ve been thinking about Bro lately. It’s tough, because you have a lot of conflicted feelings surrounding him. You’d always admired and looked up to him, but it wasn’t until more recently that you started to think about all the ways in which he fucked you over. You guess it never really occurred to you how screwed up your childhood was, what with the house full of weapons and traumatizing puppet traps. You were too busy convincing yourself that your Bro was this mysteriously perfect pinnacle of masculinity to notice that he wasn’t there for you when you needed him, that he played mind games with you when you didn’t want him to, that he left scars deeper than the ones from your pitifully one-sided strifes. You know he did it because he thought he was making you stronger, preparing you for what lay ahead, but that doesn’t make it any less fucked up. That much you’ve gleaned from your many conversations with Rose about the subject.

Karkat seems to notice that you’re lost in thought. He squeezes your hand and looks over at you questioningly.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Oh, just thinking,” you say. He snuggles closed to you, placing his head on your chest.

“About what?”

“Hm,” is all you say. Then, “Was your Crabdad good to you?” He seems surprised by the question, picking up his head to look at you again. He thinks for a moment before speaking.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, leaning his head on your chest again. “I mean. We fought a lot. We didn’t always see eye to eye. But he took care of me. He was there for me. Maybe I didn’t appreciate him as much as I should have.”

“I’m sure he knew you loved him.”

“I hope so,” he says, absently tracing patterns in your shirt with the hand that’s not holding yours. “What about you?” he says suddenly. “You never talk about your brother.”

You give a low, terse laugh, ruffling your free hand in his hair.

“I dunno, man. Shit was pretty fucked… Did you know I had to hide food around the house because the kitchen was full of swords and shit?”

“That _is_ pretty fucked,” he agrees.

“And the puppets… god, that was the worst part, I think. Those things gave me nightmares.” It’s weird to think you’ve never really talked this openly about such an important part of your life with Karkat before.

“Why did he keep so many around?” Sometimes you forget the trolls used to watch your apartment all that time ago.

“No idea, dude. Probably just to fuck with me. I bet he considered it part of my training.”

“Crabdad used to train me. Although psychological horror wasn’t part of the regimen.”

“You’re not missing out, I’ll tell you that much.”

You feel almost guilty talking about Bro like this, even though it’s all true. And it’s not like he’s around to hear it, anyway.

“Yeah,” Karkat says. “Abusive guardians were kind of a highblood thing, I think.”

You freeze. There it is. The dreaded ‘A’ word. You don’t want to think about it. You’re not going to think about it. You’re—fuck, you’re thinking about it. _Abuse abuse abuse._ You don’t like to think of it that way, but hell. That’s what it was. It creates a knot in your stomach and your blood runs cold. _Stop thinking about it. Stop. You’re not a victim. You’re not, you’re not, you’re—_

“Dave?” Karkat seems to have noticed your distress. “Shit, _Dave_.”

You’re frozen. Your mouth is dry. You squeeze your eyes shut, open them again. Everything is too bright. You gather enough strength to shakily move your arm, reach for your shades on the bedside table and put them on. Karkat is talking to you, but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Your other hand, still in his, is starting to sweat. You swallow, then look over at him.

“I,” you start, then stop because shit your voice is a mess. He pushes himself up so he’s at eye level with you, hovering slightly above your face.

“Dave,” he says gently. His eyebrows are drawn together in concern, mouth turned down at the corners. He kisses you on the forehead. “I’m sorry.” His voice is full of guilt. “I should learn when to keep my mouth shut.”

“Nn,” you try. You feel like you’re floating, and not in a good way. “No,” you finally manage. “S’okay.”

He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching for something, then lightly presses his lips to yours. The sensation grounds you, makes you feel solid again, so you kiss back, twisting a hand in his hair. The kiss grows deeper, your lips moving frantically against his. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. He sighs into your mouth and the knot in your stomach begins to dissipate. Then he pulls back, searches your face again.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, voice soft, then closes his eyes. “I love you.” You move your hand from his hair to his face, stroking his cheek gently, hoping that he gets the message. _It’s okay. I love you, too._ He opens his eyes, blinks at you owlishly, then gives a sad little smile. You return the expression.

“Why do I feel like we only ever say that when we’re about to fuck, while we’re fucking, or when we’ve just fucked,” he says. You huff a small laugh at that, though it comes out almost as a wheeze.

He brings the hand holding yours up to his face, kisses your fingers. He’s being so gentle with you, like you usually are with him, and you have to admit it’s pretty nice. Even though you kind of hate feeling so fragile, at least you know it’s safe to be like this with him.

“You should kiss me again,” scrapes out of your mouth. God, what is wrong with your vocal cords?

He does kiss you again, pushing his lips against yours more firmly this time, and you whine involuntarily. Your free hand is back in his hair, pulling him closer. He gives up on hovering over you and rests his body on top of yours, and you melt into the closeness. His tongue traces your lower lip, and you open your mouth to let him in. He presses his tongue against yours, licks at the inside of your mouth (and yeah it’s kind of gross when you think too hard about it, but right now it’s exactly what you need). You moan and run your hand up and down his back, eventually settling it at the dip of his waist. He pecks your lips a few times, then migrates to your jaw, causing you to shudder and sigh. He kisses you there for a while, dragging his lips pleasantly against the sensitive skin, slowly moving downwards to your neck. You try saying his name, but all that comes out is a gust of air. He mouths at your neck, planting kisses here and there, and you’ll admit you’re starting to get a little hot under the collar. Neck kisses might be one of your biggest turn-ons, and the way he’s alternating kissing and suckling at the skin is getting you pretty riled up.

“Karkat,” you breathe, squeezing his hand. He stops, much to your simultaneous relief and dismay. He looks up at you sheepishly, then buries his face against your shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine,” you say, voice still refusing to go any louder than a breathy whisper. “I just… didn’t wanna get carried away.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Maybe later,” you say, and you’re kind of disappointed because that was getting pretty hot, but… you’re just not sure that now is the best time.

“Yeah,” he repeats, and you think he might be a little disappointed, too.

“Um,” you say, swallowing a few times, trying to get your voice working again. “Wanna just take a nap together?”

“Sure.”

The two of you shift around a bit, getting comfortable and curling around one another, legs intertwined, hands still fitted perfectly together.


End file.
